"The time has come," the Walrus said
"To talk of many things:
Of goals -- and penalties-- and red cards--
Of when the final bell rings
And whether Man. Utd. have wings."
It was a dull day for most of the Manchester United fans, atleast duller than the past times that they've been vanquished. Losing a match by a telling margin of 4 goals to 1 to an adversary, of whom they despise, of whom they talk about while playing cards, while sipping hot tea on a saturday morning, would bear upon their feeble minds an onus that is well worthy of itself. The last saturday, with their full strength, their eleven men, Manchester United lost the match at their home ground, the Old Trafford, to the Reds, the Liverpool, by the scoreline 1-4.
Much has to be said about their complacency and arrogance. So much that if one has to go on writing, it would well be reaching the end when a book of Ramayana started parallely would have had the Lord Rama constructing the mythical bridge to the Lanka. The comparison isn't apt. More so because of the hard work that the monkeys and others had gone through to build the bridge. United here, for one, did nothing of that sort. They were just bewildered by the audacity with which the Liverpool forwards and midfielders have surged through their vaunted defence.
A passer by, when prompted to watch the match, would have said that the scoreline would have been much heavier on the latter side with some khatarnak goals just having missed the blessing that master Fate holds its reign on. United are not wonted to having being thrashed at home. Maybe this would wake them up from their day dreams and their habit of stating that the Premier League is unka baap ka jaagir.
There are some things that only one can experience. Those that someone of the calibre of Wodehouse or Sidney Sheldon can describe with their hold on the language but would still fall short of giving one the actual experience of it. Like having garam channa or pani puri on a winter evening, or having a garam chai on the rainy day watching the rain through the window sills, or dancing in the rain with your loved one. One can speak much about them but would only be succeeding in communicating that one would enjoy such things. But to actually let you know how it is to feel those things, is quite impossible. The same can be said about a casual football lover that watches a wonderful game on a saturday evening. That it is between Man Utd and Liverpool , the old rivals, needs to be mentioned here. That I couldn't watch it is not a matter of chance, but speaks of the tragic lives that people in BSNL project are leading. Atleast with the feeling of unable ot watch the match, I felt it hard on my conscience. ;-)
Enough of this obituary for now. I have exaggerated a few things here, but would be happy to have written the same stuff again. Especially contemplating on the match through the red tinted glasses that I am wearing. (Liverpool are called 'The Reds') Whatever might be said, it is evident that unless Man. Utd. fails to win a few of the easy matches, Liverpool dont' stand a chance for the title. Man. Utd., with this scar, would be quite formidable and thrilling to watch, as ever. Whoever wins, the football each of these teams play gives one a quite-a-smug feeling and that's what it is all about. Let there be love. Let there be football. To hell with Indian fourth estate and their mania for cricket that has driven me to stop watching cricket.
PS: All the Manchester Utd fans sorry to have disappointed you. It was just a wakeup call for your team. Next to Liverpool, I love Man. Utd. Apart from Christiano Ronaldo, of course.